ABC, Easy as You and Me
by PartiPooper
Summary: Kyle is single, a kindergarten teacher, living alone in an apartment, and just turned twenty-seven. He doesn't expect much else from his life until a single father called Eric turns up to rock it. (Fluffy Kyman One-Shot; Rated T for profanities; Dedicated to shortstackedcheesecake.)


Honestly, Kyle was glad to have his own place. The novelty of independence still hadn't worn off since he'd left his parents' house almost ten years ago. He could stay up as late as he wanted, eat a whole tub of strawberry ice-cream to himself in one sitting without getting judgemental looks, and walk around the apartment in just his underwear in the middle of the afternoon. Still, it wasn't without its downsides. It could get very lonely, having no one to say good morning to, no one to talk about your day with, no one to wish a good night. So he was kind of grateful when his phone would ring, as it did on the morning that he turned twenty-seven.

"Hey, Ma," Kyle answered the call, holding the phone in one hand while using the other to load his toaster with a couple slices of bread.

"Happy birthday, Bubbe!" his mom sang over the phone. Calling her son on his birthday had become a tradition for Sheila ever since he had left home, in lieu of kissing his cheek or squeezing him in a hug or promising his favourite dish for dinner that night.

"Thanks, Ma," Kyle chuckled, appreciating the fact that she still made an effort. Even _he_ didn't try so hard for his own birthday anymore. Birthdays had become less special the older he got. Gone were the days of cake and birthday parties and piles of presents. Lately, he was lucky if he got a few well-wishers on Facebook, an easier day at work, and a card from that one elderly relative he's not sure he'd ever even met. Not that he minded; his enthusiasm for his birthdays had been lost long before they had become like any other boring day to him. Still, it was nice his mom cared enough to make a fuss, embarrassing and unnecessary as it sometimes was.

"Oh, Kyle! Twenty-seven!" she cooed excitedly. "You're so grown up now!"

Kyle was relieved that his mom couldn't see him rolling his eyes at her over the phone, something he definitely would have been scolded for otherwise. "I've been grown up for a while now, Ma."

"Yes, of course you have. And your father and I are so proud of what a mature, sensible young man you've become!"

Hearing that, Kyle smiled and wished he'd actually been able to find the time off work to visit home. "Thanks, Ma."

"Oh, but Bubbe, it's been ages since we last spoke! How have you been? Have you met anyone special yet?"

Scratch that. Kyle was relieved not to be home after all. He would've hated to have to deal with _this_ in person. He simply sighed, having known that this interrogation would be coming, the same as it had on all his birthdays before. "I'm fine, Ma. And not yet."

"You should really think about settling down soon, Bubbe. At this rate your younger brother will make me a grandmother before you do!"

Kyle grimaced, because there she went, making him compete against Ike again. It was another reason why he was glad to be out from beneath her roof: his relationship with his brother was better, less strained, when he didn't feel like he was being constantly compared to him.

"Ma, I don't want to rush into something important like that. I'm not just going to pick some random stranger off the street. I need to meet the right person first." Those who knew him wouldn't say that Kyle was much of a romantic, but he did believe in The One, and he was still firmly holding out for his. His mother had met his father in college though, and they had already settled down and had a baby by Kyle's current age, so she could only see her graduated son as being late in the dating game.

"You know, you wouldn't have this problem if you'd gone into law like your father and I told you to," she started, and Kyle rolled his eyes once more because – oh, boy – here we go again. "Lots of smart, single young women are into law these days. You could've met someone in a career like that! You don't meet _anyone_ who's single teaching kindergarten, I bet."

"Yeah, speaking of teaching kindergarten," Kyle interrupted before she could _really_ get started, spying an escape, "I have to go now or I'll be late for work. But thanks for calling, Ma. Tell Dad I said hi."

"Oh, alright," she gave in, miracle of miracles. "We'll talk later. Have a nice day at work, Bubbe."

"Thanks, Ma. Talk to you soon." After he had hung up, Kyle breathed a sigh of relief. He had dodged a bullet again, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep that up. It wasn't like his mom was wrong though. And it wasn't like he was against dating. Honestly, he wouldn't mind it. Seeing how content and fulfilled his friends looked with their partners, he wanted to feel that way as well. He did, really, he was just… _scared_.

Kyle had never really had anything like that with anyone. There had been the odd crush here and there in school and college, sure; but back then he had been a nerd, more concerned with his books than his looks. He hadn't glanced up from his studies long enough to make a real connection with anyone, and his unkempt hair and rumpled sweaters and the dark bags under his tired eyes had attracted no one… He was still kind of like that… He didn't know how to appear attractive to people, didn't know how to approach people he was attracted to. It was an art most learned in high school; an art which he had never acquired, and probably the only thing in his life he would get an F on, if such things were graded.

All Kyle knew was how to teach kids their ABC's, how to get glue and paint out of clothes, how long someone needed to sit in the Time-Out Chair to learn an adequate lesson. He was good at it. It was comfortable. It was familiar. It was… probably what he should stick with. So, sighing heavily, he brushed his mother's concerns and his own contemplations aside, and decided to focus on his day.

Kyle made it to work right on time, as always, and smiled as he rounded the door into his classroom to find his co-worker already there. It was nice having someone as devoted as him to help out, especially with how hectic it could get in that class.

"Morning, Leo," Kyle said as he walked in and hung his tote up on one of the many pegs lining the wall which would soon be filled with miniature hats, bags, and coats. Leopold turned at the sound, and immediately began beaming. Seeing his co-worker smile was like staring directly into sunlight, and Kyle wondered what weird side of the bed Leo woke up on to be so chipper so early every morning.

"Mornin', Kyle!" He waved in greeting, and seeing the state of Leo's hands, Kyle smirked in amusement as he shrugged his coat off to put on his work apron.

"Why are your hands covered in paint?" he asked, even though he knew why very well. "You haven't been doing the rainbow sponges again, have you?" Immediately, Leo's smile faltered.

"N-no," he stuttered, hurrying to hide his hands behind his back. Then, after a beat of silence, his shoulders sagged with a sigh and he ducked his head in shame. He realised that he had been caught literally red-handed (also orange- and yellow- and green- and blue- and purple-handed). "…Well, yeah. Jus' a lil'."

"You've done rainbow sponges every day for the past week, Leo," Kyle laughed as he tied his apron, shaking his head at him in amusement. "It's time to move on, or else the kids will get bored."

"I know," Leo sighed. "I jus' can't help it. Rainbow sponges are so neato! You can make wiggles 'n' squiggles or even straight lines if you wanna! You can make thes-"

"I know, Leo," Kyle interrupted before he could continue going off on this same excited spiel for the dozenth time. "It's super fun, I get it. But I'm sure it's run its course for the kids by now."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Leo sighed in defeat. He gazed up at the string, held up by pins, which zig-zagged left to right and back again across the ceiling of the classroom. It was meant for pegging the children's pictures to. The only pictures hanging along the whole string though, weighing it down in their dozens, were rainbow sponge creations from Leo binging on those sessions since last week. It was a problem. Kyle had half a mind to send Leo to rainbow rehab. "Guess I gotta try somethin' else with 'em now. Shoot."

Sometimes Kyle wondered whether Leo would be better off being a student in kindergarten rather than one of the teachers.

Shortly after he and Leo had finished readying the classroom, taking the chairs down from the tables and setting out the supplies, the kids began flooding in. Kyle knew all their names and faces, and he greeted each and every one as they came in. The shyer kids just nodded quietly in acknowledgement before scurrying to their seats, while the more outgoing kids returned the greeting with an ecstatic wave. Some kids just hung up their stuff and went straight to their tables, while other kids went right up to Kyle as soon as they walked in, to show him a picture they drew yesterday evening or tell him what their dog did that morning. No matter what they did, Kyle thought they were all so dear. Each child was different, unique and interesting in their own way…

Sometimes, Kyle wondered what his own kid would be like… If he ever _would_ have his own. He hoped so.

If Kyle valued anything, it was family. Sure, his parents drove him nuts, and his little brother was a pain in the ass (and proud of it); but he loved having them anyway. He loved having people to go home to, people to learn from, people to teach. And he adored children. He liked being depended on, and caring for people just came so naturally to him. Back in school, his friends had even dubbed him the _"Mom Friend"_ because of how he had always looked after them. His schoolbag had bulged with not only books, but band-aids too in case anyone scraped their knee in gym class, and meds in case anyone came down with something in the middle of the day, and extra snacks in case anyone forgot their lunch. He also used to nag his friends about doing their homework all the time, listen to and talk them through their problems at home, and let them cry on his shoulder after they'd been broken up with. Looking back, Kyle had been a practising parent for as long as he could remember. He just wished that he could be a parent for real someday, preferably with a partner to help…

Once everyone was seated and as quiet as a bunch of rambunctious children could be, Kyle expected the day to proceed as usual. That is, until Leo clapped his hands and spoke up. "We've got a lot of fun to have today, but before we start, don't y'all have a lil' somethin' for a big ol' someone?"

He winked at the class as he finished, and the children began murmuring and smirking amongst themselves. Looking around the room, Kyle realised that he seemed to be the only one not in the know, and that all their little eyes were shifting to him. He sensed conspiracy, and worried how well he would fare in a kindergarten uprising. He doubted he could single-handedly take on a sizeable swarm of mischievous munchkins.

"Mr Broflovski." Leo turned to him, prompting, and Kyle could only stand there blinking.

"Me?"

"Yes you!" A bubbly little girl's pigtails bounced as she jumped up from her seat and ran up to Kyle. She grabbed his hand and began pulling him along, and he was too confused to do anything but stumble along after her. "Sit here, Mr Broflovski!" she demanded, patting a too-small chair.

"Okay," Kyle said, sitting down, a little too surprised and curious to protest anyway. Some other kids went to crowd around him in the chair, amongst them a bespectacled boy who stepped forward to speak.

"Cover your eyes, Mr Broflovski, like this!" He demonstrated with a grin.

"Okay, okay," Kyle laughed, closing his eyes and covering them with his hands for good measure. He finally accepted that he wasn't getting out of this, whatever it was, and might as well go along with it.

"Don't open them until we say, okay?" he was told as he heard the kids hurrying and scurrying around, giggling and whispering excitedly amongst themselves, as well as a cacophony of chairs scraping and what sounded to be a drawer opening and closing again. He just hoped they weren't going to play a prank on him.

It wasn't long before the classroom quietened down a little. Less feet were moving, although some still shuffled here and there, sounding to be in anticipation, and the talking had died down considerably, until there were just the odd few whispering and most others trying to shush them. So shortly, Kyle asked, "Can I look yet?"

"Not just yet!" Leo chuckled. "Hold on…" More shuffling. "Just a second…" More shushing. And then, "There! Okay. _Now_ you can look."

As soon as he opened and uncovered his eyes, Kyle was greeted by the sight of all the kindergartners swarmed around him, buzzing with glee as a couple of kids at the front presented something to him.

"Happy birthday, Mr Broflovski!" they all chorused.

"Oh, wow," was all Kyle could say at first as he awed at what the two front-most kids were shoving in his face. He took it from them slowly, admiring the colourful card which had a big _"Happy Birthday"_ on the top and an even bigger number _"27"_ on the bottom.

"Um, we all made it," one girl said softly, shyly sweeping a silky lock of ebony hair behind her ear. Kyle could very well see that, due to the… _clumsiness_ of its creation.

It was overwhelmingly, unnecessarily big, so much so that Kyle thought he would probably skip trying to find a shelf big enough to accommodate it in his tiny apartment and just hang it straight on the wall instead. It was a little mangled at the edges where the kids had struggled with the craft scissors, and it was lucky he was wearing an apron as almost all of the glitter on the card cascaded onto his lap in a sparkly avalanche as soon as he held it upright. But it was the thought that counted.

Front and centre, there was a picture the kids had drawn of him… Well, it _looked_ like it was _supposed_ to be him anyway, a little. There was a messy mass of red squiggles plopped atop what looked like a pink potato with a clownish smile, and a pair of mismatching green buttons poorly glued on to be eyes. It wasn't very flattering, but all the love hearts drawn around the face, and all the birthday wishes and crayon kisses he found within the card itself when he opened it, give the impression that it was supposed to be.

"Aw, you guys!" Kyle cooed, deeply touched, gently placing the card on his lap. "This is so nice. C'mere!" he giggled as he threw his arms out wide to welcome the kids into a big group hug. They flocked to him without hesitation, and he pulled as many of them in as close as he could. "Thank you! This means a lot."

"Do you like it?" one little boy asked, his grin revealing an endearing gap-tooth.

"I love it!" Kyle said, and the kids cheered. Some kids high-fived each other and did happy little jigs in celebration while other enthusiastic members of the class began pointing out the parts of the card they had done to Kyle and telling him the story of how Leo had helped them make it in secret when he wasn't around. Kyle playfully glared at his sneaky co-worker and Leo laughed as Kyle shook his head at him. But that wasn't the only thing Leo had prepared behind his back.

Upon entering the teacher's lounge for lunch later, Kyle was further surprised to find all of his co-workers waiting for him with the lights off and curtains drawn. They started singing _Happy Birthday_ to him as soon as he walked through the door, and all he could do was stand there and grin. Leo was standing at the head of the amiable ambush, of course, holding out a cake which he had probably baked himself for the day, its twenty-seven glowing candles acting as a bright beacon in the dimmed room. Kyle was invited to blow those candles out once the song was over, and he took a deep breath and tried to take them all out in one. No such luck. That was one of the problems with aging – there were more candles on his cake than his lungs had air to cope with. Nobody minded though. They all laughed good-naturedly as he had to have another go to blow the rest out, and clapped him when he had succeeded.

While Leopold cut the cake up and dished it out onto paper plates, everyone crowded around Kyle to pat him on the back and wish him well and generally make a fuss of him. Kyle smiled shyly, his arms tucked behind his back and his shoulders slightly hunched, ducking under their attention. He wasn't used to the spotlight, but he was enjoying it nonetheless.

"Twenty-seven, huh?" One co-worker nudged their elbow into his side encouragingly. "Exciting! Do you have anything planned for tonight?"

"Nothing much," Kyle shrugged. "I'm just going to have a quiet night in with myself." He would have liked to spend time with his best friend, Stan, who he hadn't seen in so long; but he was busy back in California with his wife, Wendy, and their toddler twins. He wouldn't have minded being with Leo, but that meant that his long-time boyfriend, Bradley, would be there too, and then Kyle would just feel like a third-wheel. Sometimes it seemed like everyone had moved on without him, and he had been left behind, alone.

Kyle found himself thinking back to the phone call with his mother that morning…

After lunch, the rest of the day went by without any surprises. Well, aside from little Zac causing mischief – a daily occurrence, really; nothing Kyle wasn't used to or couldn't handle. One little girl wouldn't let Zac take a toy truck she was playing with, so the troublesome tot had decided to cut her hair. Luckily safety scissors weren't any good for playing hair-dresser, and the girl had begun wailing as soon as she had realised what Zac was trying to do, so Kyle had manged to intervene before any damage could be done. He'd put Zac in Time-Out, and after the boy had been brought out of it he'd been better behaved, although still pouty. Kyle couldn't guess where Zac got it from since his mother seemed like such a sweet, well-mannered lady. Then again, he had never met the father…

To the relief of the exhausted teacher, home-time eventually came. Kyle made small-talk with parents as they arrived to collect their children, commenting on the weather (cold and snowy, they complained, as if South Park was ever anything else) and letting them know how their little darlings were doing. And when the children were all bundled up ready for the cold and the snow, Kyle waved each and every one of them goodbye, packing up the classroom in-between. Soon, there were no children left… except for one.

Zac's mom still hadn't come to pick him up. Luckily the five-year-old seemed quite content where he was, sitting by himself on the floor in the corner, using a pair of craft scissors to decapitate some paper people he had made earlier that afternoon while enacting their screams and cries for help and mercy; but Kyle was getting worried. Ms Turner usually picked him up on her way home from work. She was rarely late; and when she was, she normally phoned ahead to let Kyle know that she was okay and on her way. But Kyle had heard nothing from her, and every minute she didn't show up made him more agitated.

She was so late that Leo had already been forced to leave Kyle to close up the classroom on his own. His boyfriend had been parked outside waiting to pick him up, but he was on a tight schedule, having to drive to his own work after dropping Leo off home from his. Kyle, too, had somewhere to be, though. He was going to miss his bus home at this rate.

Just as Kyle was considering giving Ms Turner a call, an unfamiliar stubbled face appeared in the doorway of the classroom. The man it belonged to was wearing grubby jeans and a weird t-shirt with the words _CAT DADDY_ printed across the chest. He eyed the room unsurely, not seeming to know whether or not he was supposed to be there, and knocked his meaty knuckles tentatively on the wall by the door.

"Um, hello? Is, uh… Is Zachary Turner here?"

Zac's head snapped up as soon as he heard the voice, gasping with glee, and his eyes were alight with recognition. He whipped round, and began beaming as soon as he saw the man in the doorway.

"Daddy!" Zac jumped up, abandoning his paper massacre and running to the man, crossing the classroom faster than Kyle could say _don't run with scissors_.

"Oof!" the man grunted as Zac barrelled into his legs at full-force, before chuckling good-naturedly as he picked him up and rested him on his hip. "Hey there, little buddy! Looks like I finally found the right classroom."

"What're you doing here? Where's Mommy?"

"She couldn't make it today, sport," the man explained, "so she called me in to rescue you."

"Yay!" Zac cheered, throwing his arms around his neck.

The boy obviously seemed to know the man. However, Kyle did not; and he wasn't one for letting a child leave with who was, to him, a stranger. Before that could happen, Kyle abandoned the desk he'd been clearing and approached the pair.

"Hello, you must be Zac's father," he said, drawing the man's attention away from his supposed son. Kyle wiped his messy hands on his apron before holding one out in offering. "I'm his teacher, Mr Broflovski. It's nice to meet you."

For a second, the man didn't react. For what felt like forever, the man just stared at him. His dark brown eyes bore into Kyle's, and he became nervous under the intensity of their gaze. Nobody had ever looked at him that way before; he didn't know what it meant, and he didn't know what to do about it. Luckily, the man broke out of it, and grinned at him.

"No kidding," he said, clasping Kyle's hand in his and shaking it firmly. Kyle marvelled at how warm his hand was, how soft, how strong, how nice it was to hold, how well it fit in his own. He blushed. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Y-you have?" Kyle asked, surprised.

"Yeah, the kid loves you. He goes on and on about Mr Broflovski."

"Oh, really?" Kyle realised then that he had been holding the man's hand for far too long, and jerked out of it, retrieving his own hand and rubbing it bashfully. "S-sorry, I… Um. I didn't catch your name?"

"Eric," the man replied. "Cartman."

 _"Ah,"_ Kyle thought, noticing the different last name, _"he and Ms Turner probably aren't together then."_ It would explain why he had never seen him before, or ever really heard about him.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Cartman. I hope Ms Turner's well?" he urged, trying to get some information out of Eric as to what had become of her. "I got worried when she didn't come to pick him up at the usual time."

"Yeah, she's fine. She just got caught up at work so she asked me to pick him up today. 'S'why I'm a little late. Couldn't find the classroom," he explained, rubbing his neck bashfully.

"Oh, I see," Kyle said. "Well, I'm glad you found us in the end."

"Yeah, there's no telling what his mom would've done to me if I couldn't find him," Mr Cartman laughed.

"Daddy," Zac interrupted, impatient and demanding as ever, tugging on his father's shirt sleeve to get his attention, "guess what! It's Mr Broflovski's birthday today!"

"It is?" Mr Cartman looked intrigued, but Kyle rubbed his forearm sheepishly, feeling too old to make a fuss out of his birthday. With kids, it was fine: it gave them an excuse to be excited and create things like cards. But with other adults it just felt… childish. Embarrassed, he didn't know what to say, but Eric smiled as he looked back to him. "Well happy birthday! Hope this one wasn't too much of a brat to you today."

"Oh, no, not at all! He's a goo-…" Kyle started, but stopped himself shortly. To say that Zac was a good boy wasn't necessarily true, whereas to say that Kyle always tried to be honest, was. Still, he was dealing with Zac's parent, so… a little discretion was warranted. "Well, I mean, he… He didn't have more than one temper tantrum today, so that's…" Kyle cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, not really sure where to go from there. He couldn't think, especially not with Mr Cartman watching him so intently with those damned eyes, so he gave up. "Um, anyway. Thank you."

Mr Cartman simply laughed, shaking his head, "It's fine."

"Daddy!" Zac tugged at his father's sleeve again. "I'm hungry. I wanna go McDonald's."

"Alright, alright," Mr Cartman gave in, pulling his son's hands off of him before he could stretch the material of his shirt anymore. "Only if you don't tell your mom." He then looked to Kyle, who was a blushing mess all over again when the brunet winked at him. "You won't tell her either, will you?"

"Your secret's safe with me," Kyle promised, smirking.

"Good," Mr Cartman said, prying the scissors out of Zac's hands and giving them to Kyle. Their fingers brushed during the exchange and Kyle was confused by the fact that Mr Cartman seemed to let the touch linger longer than it should have. "We'll be on our way then." Mr Cartman fetched Zac's bag from its peg, and turned back to wave at Kyle with his son as they headed out the door.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr Cartman!" Kyle called out, waving back. "Bye, Zac! I'll see you tomorrow!"

With the last child gone, Kyle was finally free to take off his apron, put on his coat, and go the hell home. Normally his only thoughts as he left the school to get the next bus, rode it through town, and made the short walk from the stop to his apartment, would be of putting on his pyjamas, heating up a microwaveable meal, and zoning out with some trashy television. For the whole journey home, though, he couldn't help thinking of anything else except a dark pair of fascinated, fascinating eyes, a great, gargantuan grin, and a warm, welcoming hand. He was so wrapped up in these particular thoughts, in fact, that he almost missed his stop, barely snapping out of them in time to signal the bus driver. These thoughts continued to plague him even when he managed to make it home. They caused him to put his pyjama shirt on inside out at first, to forget to turn on the microwave for a good five minutes after he put his cup noodles in there, and to have absolutely no idea what the hell was happening on the show he'd switched on, because he wasn't paying attention. He was just thinking, and thinking, and thinking…

That man. That strange, beguiling man. Why did he look at Kyle like that? Why did he let him hold his hand so long? Did he go home to an empty apartment and eat cup noodles, too? Was he lonely, too?

Kyle didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to know more about that man. But he also knew that the likeliness of seeing him again were slim to none. That was the first time he had ever encountered the man in all his months teaching his son, after all. Logic dictated that it wasn't rational to want to see him again, it wasn't reasonable. Kyle prided himself on being both of those things, so he decided to throw those wants away along with his empty noodle cup, and turn off any curiosities he had along with the television. He got into bed, pulled out his lesson planner, and focused on preparing for tomorrow's class. That was something sure. That was something he could depend on. That was something he didn't have to doubt would happen.

With his birthday over, the next day went as it usually did. Kyle woke up, made himself toast, and went to work. He said hi to Leo as he came in, set up the classroom, and said hi to the kids as they came in too. He read picture books with the kids, helping them as they tried to read the longer words and praising them when they managed to read a whole sentence aloud. He acted as mediator between two kids fighting over a stuffed bear, reminding them that sharing was caring and ruffling their heads fondly when they decided to hug it out. He negotiated naptime, putting on some music for the restful children to fall asleep to and chasing the restless children around the room until they were too tired to do anything else but flop onto the floor with the others.

Then Kyle flopped, too, when he made it to the break room with the other teachers. He sat beside Leopold, whose boyfriend had left him a cute note (complete with a love heart and kisses) in his lunchbox, which he had packed for him that morning with a shiny green apple, a jam and butter sandwich cut horizontally down the middle into two perfect triangles, and a blueberry muffin.

"Me and Bradley were baking again last night," Leo explained with a laugh as he unwrapped the sweet treat. Kyle couldn't help feeling jealous as he sat beside him eating a packet of potato chips he'd gotten from the vending machine in the corner. He didn't have time to make lunch in the morning. Even if he did, it wasn't like he was any good at making food. He thought about how nice it'd be to have someone who'd make sandwiches for him in the morning, too. He thought about how nice it'd be to have someone to have fun with in the evening, too. He thought about how nice it'd be to have someone.

He remembered the phone call with his mom from yesterday again…

Kyle shook his head of those thoughts. It wasn't good to have them. It wouldn't get him anywhere. He finished his lunch and went to wake the kids up for the second half of the day, which continued without any problems that time. Well, aside from being extraordinarily messy. Art was on the agenda. Kyle usually let Leo take over more, then. He was much more creative than him. Kyle couldn't save himself from getting pulled on by wet, sticky hands, though. He was kind of relieved when he and Leo could call an end to it all, get the kids to tidy up and wash up, and settle everyone down for more stories before home-time. Reading to the kids was more to Kyle's strength. When Kyle had told Stan this, his bestie had joked that it was because Kyle liked the sound of his own voice. Kyle had acted affronted, but secretly he considered that maybe Stan had been a bit right.

As the parents came to pick them up, Kyle said bye to the kids as they went, in-between wiping down tables and stacking chairs on top of them, putting toys back in boxes and books back on shelves, and trying (and failing) to vacuum glitter up off the carpet. He was ready for an uneventful end to his ordinary day as the few remaining children were picked up one by one as usual.

The world, however, had a different plan for him.

"Hey," someone said from behind Kyle while he was busy putting pencils back into pots. He turned around to return the greeting, and had to stop himself from gaping as he found that the someone was the same man from yesterday.

He couldn't believe it! He hadn't prepared himself to see him again, never mind right the next day. He wasn't prepared to see him looking so much cleaner either: his stubble gone to reveal a smooth jawline; his strange shirt traded in for a dark button-up; his sloppy, rumpled jeans replaced with a fitted, pristine pair. And Kyle liked to be prepared. Not being prepared, well… it left him kind of flustered. (As did the way Mr Cartman's thighs filled out those jeans…)

"O-oh! Hello, Mr Cartman!" he replied in a quaver, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice and failing. "It's nice to see you again. Um, is Ms Turner busy today too?"

"Yeah," Mr Cartman sighed regretfully, "work's got her good, so my services are once again required." He grinned as he added, "I'm actually on time today. Impressed?"

Kyle laughed, "Yes, it's good you know where we are now."

"Well, one of you at least." Mr Cartman looked around the room. "Where's my little monster?"

"Zac's just gone to the bathroom. He'll be back out in a minute."

"Oh, cool. Hey, uh…" Mr Cartman smiled fondly and tapped his own cheek. "You've got a little glitter right there."

"Really?!" Kyle's hand flew to his cheek, and his fingers came away with glitter on their tips. "Oh, crap!" He rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand while Mr Cartman stood there laughing. "Sorry. We had arts and crafts second to last period. It always gets a little messy. Well, a _lot_ messy." Leopold had replaced his rainbow sponges with glitter. Kyle didn't know whether that was better or worse, but he was leaning towards the latter as he dreaded the shower he would have later. It would surely be like a unicorn had sharted in his drain.

"Don't worry about it," Mr Cartman sniggered, waving him off. "It's cute."

Kyle knew that he must've been talking about glitter on his face, not his face with glitter on it, but still, for some stupid, silly reason, he found himself blushing anyway. Luckily Zac returned from the bathroom before Mr Cartman could notice or call him out on it. As soon as he saw his father, the boy ran up to him yelling, "Daddy!" Just like yesterday, he went straight into his father's legs, almost knocking him off balance. Mr Cartman chuckled and ruffled his hair, and Kyle smiled at the sweet reunion. Soon, Zac pulled his face out from between his father's knees to say, "What're you doing here? Mommy was supposed to come."

"She got caught up at work again."

"But Mommy doesn't have work today. It's her day off."

For some reason, Mr Cartman's shoulders stiffened and his eyes immediately went wide with panic, flicking up to Kyle for a second after Zac had said that. Upon seeing no reaction from Kyle, other than bewildered blinking, he seemed to relax again and looked back to his son. "Uhh, yeah, but she, uh… She got called in to cover for someone."

"Oh. Okay!"

Mr Cartman cleared his throat as he picked up his son. "Well, uh. It's been nice seeing you again, Mr Broflovski."

Kyle burst into a smile. Hearing that from someone he thought it was nice to see once more, too… It felt good. Really good. "You too, Mr Cartman."

Before either man could say anything more, Zac saw that as his cue to interrupt, "Mommy and Daddy were talking about you _all_ yesterday." Mr Cartman's jaw went slack in horror, but his son didn't seem to notice or care, continuing undeterred. "Daddy kept going _on_ and _on_ about wanting to see you again. He sai-" At that point, Mr Cartman covered his son's mouth with his hand.

"Tha-that's, uh… b-b-because I, uh… I, I wanted to say thank you! Y'know. I never got to, ah, thank you. Yesterday. For taking such good care of my son."

Smiling, Kyle shook his head as he waved off Mr Cartman. "Oh, there's no need to thank me! It's my pleasure. I've always loved looking after kids. Kids haven't always liked me looking after them though, heh! My little brother got pretty sick of it once he reached junior high. _It's like you're my second mom_ , he'd say."

Mr Cartman burst out laughing, and Kyle was flabbergasted because he didn't feel like what he'd said had been _that_ funny. Maybe Mr Cartman was just an easily-amused guy. Or maybe – more mortifyingly but also more likely – he was just pretending it was funny to be polite. Kyle blushed and ducked his head. He was too proud to not be humiliated by a pity laugh.

"Oh, yeah?" Mr Cartman said as he came out of his laughing fit. "Well I think your little brother should be grateful. Christ knows I could've done with someone like you as a kid to kick my ass in line."

"Ass," Zac whispered to himself and giggled gleefully, seeming to know full well that he was saying a word he shouldn't and very much delighting in that fact. Mr Cartman patted his head as if warning him to mind himself.

"Sorry, kid. Kick my butt, I mean."

Kyle covered his mouth with his hand as he chuckled at Mr Cartman's save. The brunet smiled at him, seemingly pleased to have elicited that response. But the way his eyes softened when he looked at Kyle like that… it made his heart leap a little. He still wasn't used to someone looking at him in that way – whatever way that was.

The look was gone, however, as Zac finished laughing and said, "I'm telling Mom you said ass."

Mr Cartman fixed him with a stern stare. "Well if you're doing that then I guess you don't want ice-cream on the way home, huh?" Straight away, Zac realised that he had messed with the wrong man. His shit-eating grin fell off his face, and he stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

"…I want ice-cream."

"Then you'd better not tell your mom. And stop saying ass. You know she blames me every damn time you go home with a new word."

"Damn!" Zac shouted out suddenly, and burst into another fit of laughter all over again as his father sighed helplessly. Kyle was struggling to keep stifling his own laughter behind his hand.

"This kid," Mr Cartman said, shaking his head. He looked to Kyle again, his lips quirking up when he saw that he was still trying not to laugh. "See what I have to deal with?"

Kyle couldn't hold it anymore, laughing out as he spoke with an exasperated shake of his head, "Yes, you have my every sympathy."

Mr Cartman smiled with his eyes. "I appreciate it. God knows I need it." He went and grabbed Zac's bag off his peg and made his way out of the classroom with his son. "Adieu, Mr Broflovski."

"Bye, Mr Cartman," Kyle called out. "Bye, Zac."

Once they were gone, Kyle turned to continue potting pencils. As he did, though, Leopold swooped in out of seemingly nowhere. "You two are getting quite friendly, ain't'cha?"

"Hm?" Kyle looked at Leopold, wondering what he was talking about before it hit him. "Oh! Well, I… Do you think so? He's just a friendly person. I'm sure he's like that with everyone."

Leopold shook his head. "I only met him once before now and he said plum near nothin' to me. Ain't seen him talk to nobody else much as he talks to you neither. Never says so much as hi to no one, 'cept you."

"Oh, really?" Kyle said. He wrung his hands together, deliberating what to say, before curiosity got the best of him and he asked, "What, um… What else do you know about him?"

Leopold smiled in a way that said he knew all too much, and that Kyle knew all too little. Kyle hated being smiled at that way. It did things to his pride. "Don't know much 'cept what I've seen. Why'd you wanna know?"

"No reason," Kyle said, turning around again to feign that he'd lost _all_ interest. For a short while, Leo didn't say anything more – just stood behind Kyle, rocking on his heels with his hands tucked behind his back. But when Kyle made no attempts to talk anymore either, he eventually broke the silence.

"He's a handsome fella, ain't he?" Leopold suddenly said. Kyle thanked God that he was turned away from Leopold then, because he was pretty sure that his face went red all over. God, why was Leopold saying these things? He tucked a stray curl behind his ear self-consciously.

"I-I… I don't know. I guess."

Leo seemed pleased with his answer. He hummed a little merrily, and then saw fit to speak again.

"He's single, just so you know."

Kyle collected himself enough to glare at Leopold over his shoulder. The guy actually had the audacity to be smiling as though he'd never said a thing wrong in his life. "Why are you telling me this?"

Leopold shrugged like it was nothing, still smiling in the way that said it wasn't. "Just so you know. I don't mean nothin' by it. Gosh, Kyle, what did _you_ think I meant by it?"

Kyle narrowed his eyes further. Leopold could be quite cheeky when he wanted to. Kyle wasn't going to humour his strange turn of mood, though. "Nothing," he said, turning back to clearing up. Leopold seemed to realise Kyle was done with him, and he wondered off to clean up on the other side of the classroom. Pretty soon, the two of them had finished without any more mention of Mr Cartman.

As he passed through town on the bus home, though, Kyle couldn't help staring down his reflection in the window, those words echoing on repeat through his overactive mind.

" _He's single…"_

Why was Leo acting like that mattered? It didn't matter. Kyle was determined for it not to matter. Yet he was still thinking about it. Why was he still thinking about it? Damn everything.

Maybe it was because he wanted it to matter. Maybe it was because Eric Cartman had taken all of Kyle's predicted probabilities, his careful calculations, and screwed them all to hell. Simply by showing up a second time. Simply by shaving. Simply by continuing to talk to him even after he'd collected his son. And Kyle, who had thrived on theories and experimentation throughout his life – in school, and college, and even his work – felt drawn to the way Eric Cartman could bring that nostalgic sense of new challenge back into his life. Kyle was order and routine. Cartman was proving to be the antithesis of those things. And it was exciting. It was like when he had a science homework project. Observe the specimen. Try to find a pattern. Try to find a reason. He hoped that he would be able to do all those things…

The world felt like being fair the next day. He had just finished talking to a parent and sent them off with their child when…

"Afternoon, Mr Broflovski."

Kyle smiled at Mr Cartman's voice, which was becoming delightfully familiar to him, and turned around to return the greeting… but ended up just staring open-mouthed as he took the man in. Mr Cartman just stood there grinning, dressed in a pressed-to-impress police officer's uniform. It was ironically pretty criminal how good he looked in that shade of blue, and Kyle had to force himself not to bite his lip as he looked him up and down.

Indeed, Mr Cartman was an interesting specimen, in more ways than one.

"What's with that face?" Mr Cartman laughed. "Did I surprise you showing up like this? Don't worry, Mr Broflovski, you're not under arrest… unless you _wanna_ be." When he gave a cheeky wink at the end, Kyle had to stop himself from blurting out that, yeah, actually, he did.

"Well that's a relief," Kyle laughed. "It's… good to see you again, Mr Cartman." _Especially in that uniform._

"You too, Mr Broflovski. But, um…" He shuffled awkwardly for a moment, unsure, but then seemed to find the confidence to say, "You know you can drop the formalities, right? I'd really like it if you just called me Eric."

"O-oh," Kyle said, feeling himself getting overheated for same reason. It was just first-name basis, it wasn't a big deal… Was it? "Okay, Eric."

Mr Cartm-… _Eric_ smiled at Kyle saying his name. "That's better. So, uh. Where's my little troublemaker today?"

Before Kyle could say anything, Zac jumped up from crouching below a desk and yelled, "You'll never take me alive!" He then slung an elastic band at his father, which bounced pitifully off his chest and fell pathetically to the floor, before running off to hide behind the next desk, giggling madly all the while. Kyle was shocked by what had just happened, but Eric didn't seem as surprised.

"Here we go again," he sighed, his expression betraying a mix of embarrassment and fondness. He looked at Kyle and laughed apologetically. "Excuse me for a minute." Beginning to navigate his way around the desks towards his son, Eric pulled a walkie-talkie out from his utility belt and pretended to talk into it. "Cch! Officer Cartman requesting backup. Suspect on the run. Putting out an A.P.B. for a white male, brown hair wearing a red t-shirt, armed with elastic bands. I am in pursuit."

Kyle had to cover his mouth to stop himself from interrupting the scene with his laughter, his eyes lit up with amusement as he watched Eric walk steadily around the classroom while Zac edged away from him, moving from desk to desk. As the officer cornered him, the boy readied another elastic band, pulling it taut against his thumb.

"Come quietly and I'll go easy on you," Eric tried to reason.

"Never!" Zac let loose another elastic band, which smacked his father in the bicep before bouncing off harmlessly.

"Okay," Eric said, "you asked for it." He bolted forward, and Zac tried to run off. Eric had a head start on him, though, and longer legs. In a blink, Eric had snatched Zac up with a victorious "Gotcha!" and tucked him underarm at his side.

"No! Let me go!" Zac laughed as he tried to wriggle out of his hold, kicking his legs and beating his fists against his father's leg.

"You've caused enough trouble," Eric laughed too, going over to grab Zac's bag from the pegs and throw it over his shoulder. The tiny bag looked so comical on Eric's broad back, Kyle couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. It slipped through his fingers as he tried in vain to hold his hand over his mouth. It made Eric take notice of him, and he grinned as he approached Kyle.

"Sorry for the disturbance, civilian," Eric said, holding out his free hand for Kyle to shake. "I'll be taking this perp back to the station and making sure he's sentenced to a long bath."

"Nooo!" Zac wailed, rag-dolling in defeat in his father's arm.

"Thank you, officer," Kyle smiled, taking Eric's hand only shortly before letting go, making sure he didn't let his hand overstay its welcome like last time. "So, this is your job, huh?" he asked, looking Eric's uniform up and down pointedly.

"Yeah, sorry about showing up like this," Eric said, rubbing the back of his neck, and Kyle had to stop himself from saying that the only thing Eric would have to be sorry for is putting some pretty sordid fantasies in his wretched head later that night: something about a husky cop interrogating a lowlife like him alone in a dark cell, prepared to do anything to get the information he needed out of him, absolutely _anything_ … "I'm actually supposed to be on patrol right now, but it's pretty quiet today so I figured I could come pick the kid up. Hopefully my superiors won't find out, heh!"

"Is that really okay?" Kyle worried. "You might get into trouble."

"They'd have to catch me first," Eric declared, and it was then that Kyle realised exactly where Zac had gotten his troublesome side from. "And you won't give me away, will you, Mr Broflovski?"

"Don't worry, I'll be your alibi," Kyle promised, playing along.

"Good. Otherwise I'd have to take you downtown."

Kyle couldn't help focusing on how Eric's voice lowered as he spoke, his threat almost tempting him to commit treason after all, just to see what would happen. Kyle swallowed heavily. Eric seemed to think it was out of fear since he backed off laughing.

"Kidding, Broflovski, I'd never do that. Only thing I'd arrest you for is being too gosh-darned cute. See you later." He wandered off with that, throwing a wave over his shoulder, and Kyle was left to try and steady his heart. The proud part of him wanted to be affronted at being called something so patronising and unmanly as _cute_ … but another part of him which he didn't know even existed, which had been emerging ever since his first meeting with Eric, just felt giddy.

He'd said that word the other day, too. That was too many times to say it as a joke. Too many times to say it without meaning it. So maybe… Maybe then…

Looking back, a lot of things Kyle hadn't dared to hope would happen, had. Against every probability known to man, Eric had turned up again after their first meeting. Against every probability known to the world, he seemed to actually like him as a person. So it made Kyle think… Maybe, against every probability known to the universe, Eric could like him… as a _man_ , too? Maybe he could… Maybe _they_ could…

No.

"Get a hold of yourself," Kyle told himself. He was getting too carried away. Just because what had happened, had, didn't mean that what he wanted to would. What would Eric see in him anyway? He was still the same awkward, uptight person he always had been. He wasn't fit for anything else except dedicating himself to his work; he certainly wasn't fit for devoting himself to a _relationship_. It wouldn't be fair on Eric. And Eric deserved better, didn't he? Such a charming, funny, handsome-…

Oh, Kyle was so fucked. Thank God it was the weekend so he had time to get his head in order again.

Once again, though, the world appeared to take pleasure in playing a practical joke on him, and disallowing him that.

He was in Tweek Bros' on Saturday morning, treating himself to the same destructive forces of sugar and caffeine as he did every weekend before getting on with his errands like grocery shopping. It was his time of peace. When he was surrounded by boisterous children all week long, love them as he may, he enjoyed the fact that he could drink something warm and sugary, and just sit in a quiet coffee house for an hour or two with a book he'd been meaning to catch up on, reading by the light of the sun streaming through the front window. Of course, the sun got blocked out at one point during that particular Saturday. Kyle didn't think much of the shadow hanging over his table until he heard a voice accompanying it.

"Hey, Broflovski. Didn't think I'd see you today."

Startled, Kyle looked up. The sudden sight of Eric, his silhouette lit aglow by the sunlight streaming in from behind, near took his breath away.

"Eric!" he said, probably a little too loud, but he was just so shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"Passing by on patrol." The fact that he was in his uniform probably should have given Kyle that clue. "They give me free doughnuts here sometimes. I was just heading back out when I saw you sitting over here. Thought I'd come say hi." Eric rustled open the brown paper bag he was holding, and held the opening out to Kyle. Four sugary doughnuts sat snug inside. "Want one?"

"Um, sure," Kyle said, taking one out. "Thank you." He took a cautious bite as Eric took the seat opposite Kyle. He was delighted to find that some sweet strawberry jam oozed out of the middle.

"You know, it's kind of surreal seeing you outside the classroom," Eric confessed as Kyle continued to eat. "It's kind of like I got it into my head that you, like, live there or something, haha! Like, you don't exist outside of it. Weird, huh?"

Kyle smirked. "That is weird. But I kind of know what you mean. I got the same feeling when you came over just now." Kyle finished his latest mouthful before asking, "So, busted any more five-year-olds today?"

Eric snickered and shook his head. "Nah, all's quiet. It's kind of why I'm slacking."

"Really? I just thought that was because you're a slacker." He worried, as soon as he'd said that, that teasing was too much. They didn't know each other that well yet; yet already he felt like he could talk to Eric as easily as any of his other friends. Luckily, Eric didn't seem to mind.

"Hey!" He tried to sound affronted, but he just laughed. "You know what, you're pretty mean. If you're gonna be like that, I'll take my doughnut back."

In retaliation, Kyle shoved the rest of the dessert in his mouth before Eric could make good on his threat. Eric shook his head and clucked his tongue at him.

"Teachers. Such smartasses." He leaned forward, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. "So, what're you doing here anyway? You meeting someone?"

Kyle shifted uncomfortably. He hated it when people asked him that. It made him feel kind of pathetic when he had to reply, "Oh, uh, no, I don't really… have anyone to meet. This is just what I do at the weekends."

Eric raised a dubious eyebrow. "What do you mean you don't have anyone? I've seen you talking to that guy you work with. Don't you ever meet up with him?"

"You mean Leopold? Well, sometimes, but… he's mostly busy with his boyfriend." Kyle fiddled with the top corner of the page his book was resting on, folding it inwards and outwards again. "As are all my other friends."

"Ah. I feel you, Broflovski." Eric nodded sagely. "I thought I'd be living life like a rock star when I left the missus. But all my friends had already got missuses of their own by then and didn't want to live it up anymore. I'm the only one who's single now. The bachelor's life ain't so great when you've got no one to be a bachelor with."

Eyebrows knitting, Kyle dropped his gaze back to his book, rubbing his fingers across the page. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. Was he supposed to tell him to buck up? Was he supposed to say sorry about Eric's divorce? Was it even something to be sorry about? Was he glad to be shot of her? Or… was he still hung up on her? His heart twisted at the thought, and his lips twisted into a frown too.

Eric seemed to notice his discomfort, his smile weakening slightly. "You wanna know, right?"

Kyle blinked out of his stupor, looking up at Eric once more. "Want to know what?"

"About my divorce."

Kyle's eyes widened, and he looked down again in shame at being so easy to read. "No! I-I'm sorry, I know it's not my business-"

"Hey, it's alright." Eric held up his hands to halt Kyle, surrendering to his apologies. "It's cool. I'd be curious too if I was you. It's not like I'm upset about it or anything anymore, I've left that all behind me."

Keeping quiet, Kyle raised his head slightly, peering up at Eric from beneath his eyelashes. As much as he knew that maybe he wasn't worth Eric telling his story to, still the curious part of him – the part of him that was fascinated with this man – wanted to know anyway. He hoped that his silence would invite Eric to divulge more. With a heavy sigh and a hand through his dark hair, it soon did.

"It was the classic situation: got her knocked up by accident, had a shotgun wedding, popped out a sprog. We were still kids ourselves, young and dumb, and we thought we could make it work out. But what we had… It was a school fling. Those never last, y'know. And ours was no exception to the rule. We tried to keep it together for Zac, but we realised we weren't doing him any favours, letting him see the both of us being miserable together all the time. So we split. That's that."

Kyle's brow furrowed with concern. Even though Eric said he'd moved on, he could still imagine how difficult it must've been for him to go through a situation like that, and so young too. "I'm sorry."

Eric batted away his sympathy with a flick of his wrist. "Don't be. It was for the best, and we've both moved on. She's seeing some new guy now, and I'm getting back into the dating game too."

Kyle smiled encouragingly, glad to hear the happy ending. "Good for you guys."

"Yeah." Eric smiled too, looking down at the table, seeming lost in his own thoughts for a moment. Then his smile became tighter, and he started playing with the short hairs feathering the nape of his neck. Shortly he raised his eyes to meet Kyle's, his brow crumpled slightly, and his voice quavering as he asked, "How about you? You, uh… seeing anybody?"

"Um…" Kyle blushed and looked down into his cup. "Not right now, no."

"Hard to believe," Eric said smoothly, and it almost sounded like he was… _No_. Kyle quickly shook his head of that idea. Eric was an attractive guy, sure, but that was exactly why Kyle had to doubt that Eric was flirting with him. The guy could do better. Kyle regained his head, and ignored Eric's remark and its silly implications as he responded, distracting himself as he did by playing with his coffee cup to keep his nerves in check.

"I just haven't got myself out there, I guess. I've always been too busy with graduating high school, getting my college degree… I never had time for it. I'm starting to feel like I should get out there now, though, with the clock ticking and all. Fuck, I just turned twenty-seven the other day! My friends are all getting married and settling down and having kids, and it's made me realise I'm so far behind. But…" He dug his thumbs into the side of his coffee cup, causing two symmetrical dents to appear. "…I don't know. It's hard. I don't have much time to date with my job. So, like… I don't know…"

Immediately after speaking, Kyle kind of regretted it. Had he said too much? Probably. Eric didn't need to hear him whining about his sad, sad situation. Something about Eric was just so easy to talk to, though. And maybe something about Kyle was easy for Eric to talk to as well, since he had told him about his tender past relationship. Besides, much to his relief, Eric didn't look put-off by his confession, so much as contemplative.

After a moment of thought he asked, "Isn't teaching kindergarten easy though? Just give 'em some paper and some crayons and go read a magazine or something?"

"Maybe other kindergarten teachers like getting off easy that way," Kyle said, "but I like to think I'm giving the next generation's minds an early start. I like finding new ways to make those kids think and challenge themselves."

"Aren't these the same kids who try to eat glue and shove crayons up their noses?"

A huff of laughter escaped Kyle's nose. "Yeah, sometimes. You know what I mean."

"I do, Mr Broflovski, and now I want you to challenge yourself, and try to get out there. Have more of a social life! Maybe even start dating?"

It was a tempting notion, but Kyle just sighed tiredly, rubbing his thumbs into the dents in his cup. "It's not that easy, Eric. I've been out of it so long, I don't know if I can…"

"Sure you can!" Eric cut off Kyle's retort before he could make it. "I'll help you."

Kyle raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. "How?"

Eric hummed for a minute, rubbing his dimpled chin in thought, before seeming to come up with something. "Let me take you out somewhere. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" That was so sudden. Kyle wasn't prepared. He pushed his thumbs further into the dents in his cup, making them bigger. "Eric, I-I don't-… I can't. I should work on my lesson plans tomorrow. A-and I have to-"

"C'mon, Kyle, live a little!" Eric interrupted, bursting with frustration. "It's the weekend. You should be seeing people. Do you really want to be that guy who people think lives in his classroom? This bookworm sitting alone? He's cute, sure, but he needs to be fun if he's gonna get a decent date."

Mildly insulted by Eric's insinuation, Kyle pouted and puffed out his chest challengingly. "He's fun."

Eric simply smirked. "Prove it," he said and, boy, if that didn't rustle Kyle's prideful feathers. He'd always found it hard to turn down a challenge, a chance to show what he was made of.

"Fine. I will. Tomorrow."

"It's settled!" Eric cheered, snatching Kyle's coffee out of his hands to raise it in victory. Kyle playfully narrowed his eyes at him, and Eric laughed as he put the cup back down. "So, yeah. Anyway, how about we meet back here tomorrow then? At, say… one o'clock?"

"Sure," Kyle agreed. "What will we be doing?"

"That's a surprise," Eric said, waving his hands around mystically as he got up from his seat. It was totally weird and a little shady, but the grin on Eric's face was contagious to Kyle all the same. "I'd better get back on patrol now but I'll see you tomorrow, Broflovski. If you don't show I'll be putting out an A.P.B. for you."

"Don't worry, I'll be here," Kyle said, waving him out. After he'd watched Eric leave, he tried to get back into the book he was reading, but he gave up after he'd had to read the same paragraph for the seventh time and it still hadn't gone in. So much for a peaceful Saturday morning. It seemed that he couldn't concentrate where Eric was concerned. It suddenly struck Kyle that nobody, in all his years, had been able to get his nose out of a book like that for quite so long. Eric sure was something else. A powerful force. An unexpected enigma. And, worst of all, an adorable dork. He didn't know how he'd cope tomorrow.

Probably not well.

The next day, Kyle found himself putting way more thought into his clothes than he ever had before. And it frustrated him, because it _wasn't_ him. He wasn't the kind to worry about how he looked: he just threw on whatever was comfortable, easily washable, and likely to withstand considerable duress from the tugging hands of kids. But he had already changed his clothes three times throughout the course of the morning, and right then he was juggling between two shirts in the mirror.

It was stupid, but… some little part of him wanted to look nice for Eric, wanted Eric to look at him and think he actually cleaned up alright.

In the end, he decided on an orange plaid shirt and some grey-green fitted khakis. With plenty of gel and a sturdy comb, he managed to make his hair submit into a curly pompadour. He even put on his favourite cologne, the kind he only used on special occasions. In the back of his mind he worried that he was putting in too much effort for… well, _whatever_ this was. ( _Not a date_ , he kept trying to tell himself.) But he just knew that Eric would turn up looking attractive as always, and he didn't want to look like a sorry sight beside him.

Beside Eric. For a whole day. The thought made him swallow heavily. He'd only been with him for short, sweet moments before. He wasn't sure how they'd fare, having to be in each other's company for significantly longer. Just thinking about it – about everything that could go wrong – had him chewing on his lip as he hurried about the apartment getting ready. Nervous as he was, though, he was also really excited to see Eric. Butterflies had been building in his stomach since yesterday morning, and the closer the clock ticked to the time they'd agreed to meet, the more he felt like he was going to burst. He was so relieved when it was finally time to leave.

Although Kyle had agreed to meet Eric in town at one o'clock, he always liked to be a little early, so he made sure to get there at quarter to. Therefore he was surprised when he turned up at the coffee house to find Eric already there, sporting the same irresistible jeans as the other day but also another strange shirt that said _DADDY BEAR_ underneath a red jacket. He was standing outside sipping a cup of coffee and watching the world go by. Soon his wandering eyes landed on Kyle's approaching form, and he broke into a smile.

"Hey!" Eric cheered when Kyle reached him. "You're early."

"So are you," Kyle pointed out. "How long have you been here?"

"Meh, not too long," Eric shrugged. But he was already holding a near-empty coffee, and the line inside was pretty long. At that time of day, to get his order and be halfway finished with it by the time Kyle turned up, he would've had to have been there at least fifteen minutes before Kyle, a whole half hour early for their meeting. Kyle's brow creased in puzzlement. That seemed rather… strange. Had Eric mistaken what time they were supposed to be meeting? Before Kyle could quiz him on it, though, Eric started making a move off. "Come on, let's go."

"Where are we going?" Kyle asked as he trotted after him.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Eric said, winking. "But trust me. It'll be _super fun_."

Somehow, Kyle didn't doubt that. There was something about Eric that just made his company really enjoyable. When they finally made it to their destination, though, Kyle hadn't realised that Eric's explanation would be so… _literal_.

"Super Phun Thyme? _Seriously_?"

The building looked the same way it always had: like a hot mess. Colours on the wall clashed and crazy props – pink planets and green space ships and other things that looked stolen from a fairground – hung off the brickwork like misshapen sutured limbs. As someone who had once aspired to be an architect, Kyle was offended by the very, tacky sight of it. Eric, however, seemed to be of a different opinion.

"Yeah, this place is great. I come here with Zac all the time."

"But this is a kids' place!" Kyle protested. "And I turned twenty-seven just the other day!"

"Exactly! C'mon, Kyle. You've always gotta be the adult. Don't you wanna be one of the kids again?"

Eric probably kind of had a point. Part of Kyle's problem was how uptight he had become, ever since he'd become an independent adult with heavy responsibilities. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let loose. So that was likely a sign that he _should_. That was why they were hanging out that day in the first place. Still, letting go of his inhibitions was easier said than done.

"I don't know… What if someone I know from school sees me here? Like, one of the parents?"

"Then they'll be totally jealous of what a super fun time you're having," Eric responded. The wrinkle in Kyle's brow didn't disappear though, so Eric sighed. "Kyle, take my advice and don't give a damn what other people think."

"I don't," Kyle insisted quickly. He wasn't so sure that he wasn't just saying that, though.

"Then come with me," Eric said, holding out his hand. Kyle still wasn't sure he wanted to go into that place, but… he was pretty damn sure he wanted to take that hand. So he did, and allowed himself to be led into Super Phun Thyme.

Everything about the place was loud inside. The walls were painted a variety of vibrant colours and the patterns on the carpet were so crazy that it hurt his eyes to look at them while in motion. There was a dissonance of deafening noise: beeps and dings and clunking and shouting and laughter and music. A jazzy multitude of lights were near-blindingly bright overhead, and lights flashed and flickered in the area beyond the ticket booth in a way which would be sure to induce an epileptic fit. Kyle was sure he would've turned back around already if it wasn't for Eric still holding his hand, pulling him over to the entrance stand.

"Two adults," Eric said, slapping down a wad of dollar bills before Kyle could even reach for his wallet. Their passes were printed before he could object, even, and then Eric had already grabbed them and was tugging Kyle through the gate.

"I did bring money, you know," Kyle finally managed to say once they'd made it through into the next area housing all the amusements.

"That's cool." Eric couldn't have sounded less interested. Kyle decided to press the matter.

"Yeah. So how much do I owe you?"

"I don't want your money," Eric said. "This is my treat."

"But it feels too much like…" Kyle trailed off. It earned Eric's interest at last.

"Like what?" he asked.

"…Nothing," Kyle said, too scared to say _"like a date."_ He didn't want to suggest that and have Eric laugh at him, or have Eric get freaked out thinking that Kyle was jumping to crazy conclusions about them. It wasn't a date. It was just… a guy and his son's teacher hanging out… Fuck. "Never mind." He shook his head, determined to leave the issue behind. For then, at least. "Where should we go first?"

"Well, if you want my _expert_ opinion," Eric began, placing a hand on his chest, puffed out with pride, and closing his eyes with conceit, "I think we should start with a round of laser tag."

"I haven't played that in years," Kyle admitted. The last time had been with Ike, back in his sophomore year of high school. The little twerp had beaten him due to playing way too many shooter games for his own good (or, in that case, for his big brother's good).

"Oh. Afraid I'll beat you?" Eric goaded, and Kyle glared at him.

"As if!" he barked, and then he began to take the lead, dragging Eric along to the laser tag area. "It's on."

When they got there, Eric insisted on being on the red team, saying that was his favourite colour, so Kyle took on the opposing blue. Respective to those colours, they were kitted out and armed. They would be going in with another couple of groups, but neither Kyle nor Eric could give less of a crap about those other people. They were wholly focused on each other.

"Get ready, Teach," Eric told Kyle as he headed out. The red team were going into the area first, having won the lucky draw which randomly decided. "I'm about to school you in how to be totally awesome."

"You keep telling yourself that," Kyle replied as he waited behind with the blue team to be called out next. "Whatever makes you feel better before I totally own you."

Eric laughed him off as though Kyle was going to end up eating his words. It riled him up even more, so much so that when the blue team were finally called in, he marched ahead of the group, determined to confront Eric sooner. It turned out to be a bad move, though, because as soon as he walked through the entrance, the pad strapped to the front of his torso lit up and sounded off, the sensor signalling that he'd been shot there.

"First!" Eric shouted from where he was ducking behind a wall.

"That was a cheap shot, Eric!" Kyle yelled, cocking his gun and aiming it in warning at where Eric had sprung from.

"Yeah!" Eric shot again, and Kyle's suit lit up and beeped before he could dodge. "And so was that! Hahaha!"

Kyle ground his teeth together, frustrated that he was already losing. He hated losing.

"You'll regret that!" he shouted before taking off towards Eric, the barrel of his gun raised and pointing right at the sensor headband covering Eric's forehead.

"Whoa!" Eric ducked all the way to the floor, barely missing being hit, and then dodge-rolled away and got back up on his feet to run around a corner, laughing maniacally. Kyle gave chase, and so went their game. Other people were getting good hits on them as they were preoccupied with each other, but neither of them gave a damn. Eric and Kyle were each other's one and only targets.

Eric was a bit of a sneaky player. Kyle noticed that he liked to spring up from absolutely fucking nowhere, shoot without warning, and then run away laughing before the other person could get a chance. It was quite unfair. Luckily, Eric was a bit of a big, clumsy oaf. And Kyle was used to catching kids sneaking around in the corner of his eye, so noticing Eric shuffling between covers was none too difficult. Eric would whine every time Kyle got him in the back while he was attempting to crawl somewhere. Eric got his own back, though.

Kyle was so sure that he was being way too quick to spot, never mind shoot, as he darted quickly from the cover of one pillar to the other, shadowing Eric's movements when the big guy was blundering with his back to him in an open area. So he was shocked when, midway between one pillar and the next, his suit lit up and made the noise to indicate he'd been hit. He took a moment to reel behind the pillar once he'd reached it, and then peered out behind it to yell, "How the hell did you get me?! Your back was turned!"

"You forget I'm an officer, Kyle. Getting good at guns was part of my training. Sharpest shooter on the force."

"You're not supposed to call it the force," Kyle retaliated, lost for any other comeback. "It's too aggressive. You should call it the service."

"Oh, yeah? Well serve _this_!" Eric shot at Kyle's head, aiming for the sensor on his headband, but Kyle ducked behind the pillar again just in time. Kyle's attention was stronger, but Eric's reflexes were faster. In that way, they made formidable foes. They were pretty evenly matched, so much so that they finished the session with Eric only two points ahead of Kyle.

"Those were cheap shots," Kyle contended. "They don't count."

"You're such a sore loser," Eric mock-sighed, pretending to be vexed. He closed his eyes and shook his head with his hands held up at his sides, as though he was dealing with someone unreasonable. "Can't you just be proud of me?"

Kyle gritted his teeth and formed his hands into fists. "Not when you cheated!"

"I never cheated," Eric said. You know, like a _liar_. "You just weren't observant enough."

"Says you!" Kyle shoved a pointed finger in his chest. "I got you in the back so many times!"

"Ah, yes. The true cheap shot. Why couldn't you face me from the front like a man?"

"Because you kept running away from me!" Kyle had to stop himself from punctuating his point with a stamp of his foot. He had long been trying to grow out of that childish habit.

"Touche," Eric laughed, undeterred by Kyle's frustration. It made him falter a bit. Kyle was used to people throwing their hands up and deciding not to deal with him when he got like that. That was what Stan did. Or people chastising him for it. That was what his parents did. Eric, though, didn't seem to be bothered. He seemed to be willing to keep on talking to Kyle despite it. It made his anger diminish, in fact. He was much calmer, too taken aback to be anything otherwise, by the time Eric jerked his thumb back at the shooting area and asked, "Wanna go another round? We should team up this time."

Kyle cocked his head. "You think?"

"Yeah, we're both awesome. Let's kick some ass."

Kyle grinned. He was already tired from running around more than he had in about a decade, and his twenty-seven-year-old instincts were telling him to settle down; yet somehow Eric thinking that he, too, was awesome made him feel invigorated again. It was a feeling he could get used to.

"Let's do it."

Kyle switched allegiance to the red team, as Eric insisted he do since he'd beat him and red was the winning colour, and when they went in again they found that Eric's theory proved right. If they were formidable when opposed, then they were unstoppable when united. Although, their annihilation of the other team _could_ have been more due to the fact that they were up against, well, _children_. They still took their victory for what it was, though, and marched out of laser tag triumphant.

"Good game, Broflovski," Eric cheered, holding his hand up for a high five. Kyle gladly slapped his hand against his, feeling sweaty and successful.

"You too, Cartman. So where are we going next?" Although he'd been hesitant at first about entering Super Phun Thyme, he was suddenly really excited to be there. He wanted to see everything. He wanted to do everything. Especially if it involved Eric.

"Let's see," Eric contemplated, tapping his chin as he looked around the room. Suddenly he saw something that sparked his interest, causing him to jump up and down and jab his finger in its direction. "Oh, oh, we gotta go on the bumper cars!"

"Okay, okay," Kyle laughed, allowing Eric to grab his hand up again and pull him along. Even when Eric's hand was sweaty from clutching a plastic gun for so long, somehow Kyle still wanted to hold it.

"I'm totally gonna beat you," Eric declared, beaming at a million watts a minute.

Kyle raised a sceptical brow, his lips betraying an amused smile. "You do know you can't really _win_ at bumper cars, right?"

"Uh, _yeah_ you can, doinkus," Eric said, rolling his eyes. "Whoever rams into the other person the most wins."

"There's no skill involved in that," Kyle pointed out, unimpressed.

"Then you should be able to beat me easily, right?" Eric said, and Kyle felt himself bristling.

There Eric went, getting Kyle hyped for mundane things again. It was a talent of his. In the back of his mind, Kyle wondered if maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. The mundane things in his life needed a bit of excitement injected into them. Regardless, he sighed like it was all such a bother. "Fine. And if I beat you, I get to repay you for my entry ticket."

"Oh, my God, are you still on that?" Eric groaned. "Fine, whatever. Get ready to keep your money, Kyle, because you're about to get your ass handed to you."

"No, _you_ get ready to get your money back, _Eric_ , because I'm totally not!"

The competition ended up being inconclusive, though. Although Kyle didn't drive, only taking buses, and Eric drove often, patrolling in his cop car, bumper cars really required no skill, as Kyle had suspected, and were a breeze for both of them. Eric and Kyle chased each other in circles and repeatedly rammed right into each other, but they got so caught up in the excitement that they quickly lost count of who'd rammed who the most and were forced to call a truce at the end. They were so well-matched. Perhaps _too_ well-matched. Kyle found himself not caring who'd won, though. He was grinning from ear to ear as they left, taunting each other with smack talk. That was what mattered.

Competitiveness worked up an appetite, though. Through it, Kyle got what he wanted in the end, managing to convince Eric to let him pay for lunch just because Eric was too hungry to argue. Kyle was glad to have found a way to win fights: push Eric to the brink of starvation and he'd agree to near anything. The heavy man was just happy to finally slide into a cosy booth in the corner of the establishment's diner, with Kyle following behind. Not long after, a bubbly waitress came to serve them at their table.

"Hi there! What can I get you guys?"

Kyle ordered first. He was a small eater and decided on what he wanted pretty sharpish. "I'll have the veggie burger and a strawberry milkshake, please."

"Okay," the waitress acknowledged, penning that down in her little notebook, before turning to Eric. "How about you?"

"For starters I'll have the mozzarella sticks with marinara dip," Eric said, "and for the main I'll have the double beefy bacon burger with extra cheese, and cheesy fries. Get me a vanilla ice coke too. Thanks." Kyle stared in awe at Eric as he folded up their menus and handed them to the waitress, who said she'd be back with their drinks in a minute. As soon as she was gone, Eric looked across at Kyle and, noticing his strange expression, spread his hands out palms-up at his sides. "What?"

For a second Kyle wondered whether it'd be overstepping his boundaries, but then he decided it would be a valid observation to remark, "You eat too much."

Eric shrugged carelessly, leaning back in his seat. "Hey, when I'm chasing after bad guys all day I need the calories." He patted his stomach proudly.

"About that," Kyle said, resting his chin on the heel of his palm, "I'm curious, what made you want to be a cop?" When they were alone in that secluded place with nothing but time on their hands, it seemed as good a chance as any to get to know Eric better, find out more about the man, and Kyle was nothing if not opportunistic.

Eric chuckled as he scratched his cheek. "Heh, more like what _didn't_ make me wanna be a cop? It's full of perks! I'm basically a superhero, busting all the bad guys. I get those free doughnuts. And people respect my authority." In a carefree and boasting movement, he leaned back and threw his hands behind his head. "I'm living the dream, Broflovski."

"Ha, I guess you're right," Kyle said.

"Mm. And what about you?" Eric leaned forward again, returning his arms to rest on the table. "Why a teacher?"

Kyle sat forward, glad to oblige his own story. God, he really did like the sound of his own voice, didn't he? But Eric didn't seem to mind it, so maybe it was okay. "Well I've always liked learning. The pursuit of knowledge. And they say teaching is one of the best ways to learn. So it just makes sense, right?" Kyle couldn't help smiling as he spoke. Just thinking about his job – what it did for him, what he did for it – made him feel content, complete. "I'm glad I get to give back to the world this way. I feel like what I do can help people and change lives for the better. It makes me feel good, knowing that what I do matters."

"Yeah, I guess I kind of get the same feeling with my job," Eric admitted, and Kyle smiled wider. Knowing that Eric could share in his feelings, it gave him hope that they were like-minded enough to work as… well, whatever it was they were. Acquaintances? Friends? Or maybe…

Kyle's train of thought was disrupted as the waitress brought their drinks over, reassuring them that their food would be there shortly as she placed down Kyle's strawberry milkshake, and Eric's…

"Sick! Is that a fucking coke float?!"

"Yes, and it's a blessing," Eric replied. And then, probably to disgust Kyle further, he actually stuck his spoon in there and shovelled up a mound of coke-covered ice-cream. Or was it a puddle of ice-cream-covered coke? Whatever it was, it was an abomination in the redhead's eyes.

"That's so gross! How the hell can you drink that?"

"It's no different from your drink. You've got a _milk_ shake, Kyle. It's all dairy!"

"Yeah, but you have a literal fucking lump of solid ice cream floating in your soda!"

"It won't be solid when it melts," Eric said, and Kyle just huffed because he wasn't wrong but he still didn't think he was right in his life choices.

"What the fuck ever. You might as well have got a fucking vanilla milkshake." He took a sip from his straw to signal that the conversation was over. Eric's eyes were alight with interest as he rested his cheek on his knuckle and looked across at Kyle.

"You know, you swear a lot more than I thought you would."

Kyle winced. He'd always been a little embarrassed about that habit of his. He'd been swearing like a sailor since he was in elementary school. It was just what all the kids did. He didn't really want to do it anymore, and thank God he managed to control his mouth around the kids, but it had kind of become a normal thing for him to stick the F-word into every other sentence. He didn't even realise he was doing it half the time. He was kind of mortified he'd done it in front of Eric. What would he think of the man who took care of his kid five days a week talking like that?

"Sorry," Kyle said. "I'll try to curb it."

"No, no!" Kyle was shocked by how fast Eric blurted that out. "I'm cool with it! I'm just surprised. You always seemed like the type who'd hate swearing."

"I kind of am," Kyle laughed anxiously. "But I can't help it, you know?"

"I know," Eric sighed. "You saw me the other day with the kid. Ass and damn. They're not much but they're a big downgrade from the kind of shit I used to say. When I was a kid, no less." He chuckled and shook his head, running his hand through his hair. "Do you know what my favourite bad word was when I was, like, nine?" Kyle shook his head, and Eric looked a bit sheepish as he leaned forward to murmur, "Tampon."

"Tampon?" Kyle said, probably a little louder than he should've in a place where people were eating. His eyes widened as he remembered where they were. He looked around in a mild panic, and he folded his lips inwards when he noticed the old lady at the table next to him giving him a disapproving look. Thankfully the grandkids she was with weren't paying as much attention. Eric had been, however, and he was hunched over the table trying not to laugh too loud, his shoulders shaking. He was so stoked that Kyle got stared down by an old lady. What a douche. "Shut up," Kyle scolded, speaking quieter that time. "Why tampon? That's not even a bad word."

"I know!" Eric sniggered. "I don't know what it was about it, I just thought it was super funny."

Kyle sat back in his seat, shaking his head. He wanted so badly to give him a disapproving look like the old lady had given him, but he just couldn't stop himself from smiling when Eric was being dumb like that. "You're so immature."

What was so strange was Kyle usually couldn't tolerate people like that. He didn't have time for childishness and stupidity. Yet, with Eric it was somehow so… dare he say it, _endearing_. And that was frustrating, and terrifying, and exhilarating. Because Eric was making Kyle question everything he thought he'd known about himself. What he liked. What he knew. What he wanted. He felt like maybe all these years he'd actually been stagnant, and finally he was discovering who he really was. It was kind of intense. Too intense for a diner in Super Phun Thyme.

Kyle was allowed reprieve from his thoughts when the waitress finally returned with their food after a few more minutes of waiting and talking. Eric rubbed his hands together as she placed his heavily-loaded plate in front of him, but Kyle could only grimace at the godless amount of cheese oozing from between his juicy burger buns and dripping from the golden-brown tips of the drizzled fries.

"It can't be good for you eating all that cheese. It's probably clogging up your arteries."

Eric's bangs flopped handsomely as he shook his head. "Nah, cheese _runs_ through my veins. It's what keeps me alive."

Kyle snorted and shook his head. "Sure, whatever." He took a fry off his own plate and swirled it in some ketchup, considering what to talk about next, what more he wanted to know. He decided as he raised the fry to his mouth. "So, you said you and Zac come here all the time?"

Eric nodded. He took a bite of his burger before he started speaking. A bit of a turn-off, but Kyle didn't interrupt him to say so, too interested in his answer. "Yep. It was my second favourite place as a kid and now it's become his, too."

"Oh. Then what's your first favourite?"

"Casa Bonita."

Kyle screwed up his nose. "You mean that crappy Mexican place?"

Eric paused chewing to glower at Kyle from beneath his lashes. "I will not have you disrespecting the good name of Casa Bonita in my presence, Kyle. They have blessed me with the joys of mariachi music, caves of gold, and all the sopapillas I can eat. What have _you_ ever done?"

"Okay, okay." Kyle laughingly raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry to offend." He picked up his own burger, raising it to his mouth. Before he took a bite, he got their conversation back on track. "So, do you go out with him often?"

"Yeah, I get him every weekend. S'what we worked out."

Kyle cocked his head, his brow creasing. He quickly swallowed his mouthful so that he could query, "Then… shouldn't you have him today?"

Eric shrugged, rubbing his greasy fingers on his jacket before reaching for a sip of his coke float. "Yeah, but his Uncle Kenny's baby-sitting him."

Kyle chewed his lip worriedly. "…I'm not taking you away from him, am I?"

"Hm?" Eric looked up at Kyle, seeing the anxiety etched into his expression. He quickly shook his head. "No, 'course not! It's cool. He loves it at Kenny's. Bastard feeds him crap and lets him get away with anything. 'Sides, I'll be getting him back tonight. We're gonna build a fort and watch movies, same as every Sunday."

Kyle's shoulders sagged with relief, glad to not be taking up Eric's time which could be better spent with his son. He smiled at what they had planned that evening. He was kind of jealous of the fun they'd be having while he went back to his empty apartment. "It sounds like you two get along well. I mean, just seeing the way Zac's face lights up when you come pick him up after school… You seem like a really good dad."

"Heh, I don't know about that." Eric seemed rather awkward about receiving the compliment, his brows creasing and his gaze lowering, as if he wasn't used to the praise, or didn't believe he deserved it. "I try, I mean. But I never really knew my own dad so… I've kind of had to learn to be one all on my own. So maybe I mess up sometimes. But the kid seems happy, so…"

"That's what matters," Kyle reassured, nodding encouragingly. "I've seen bad dads." It was his turn to look awkward, thinking about how he had, in fact, experienced a bad dad himself. His own father hadn't been very interested in his beliefs, or very respectful of his ambitions. He felt like he'd been arguing with him for most of his adolescence. He wasn't sure he'd have looked at his own father, then, the way Zac looked at Eric. "I've seen how their children react to them. I know what they're like. And I don't think you're one of them."

Eric smiled warmly, as if what Kyle had said was actually important, causing his heart to skip. "Thanks, Broflovski."

Kyle shook his head quickly, and lowered his head at the same time as he raised his burger, trying to hide as much of his face as he could. He could feel himself turning terribly red. God, he really couldn't handle the way Eric looked at him sometimes. Well, _most_ of the time, actually. Luckily they moved on to more playful subjects afterwards: Eric indulging Kyle in some of Zac's more embarrassing baby stories, Kyle finding it only fair to divulge some of his own, and Eric, in turn, being reminded of his own as well. They had been quite similar in childhood, it seemed from their stories. Loud. Rowdy. Short-tempered. Kyle wondered whether they would have been friends, if they'd met then. Or rivals. Or a strange mix of the two. He smiled at the thought.

Soon they'd had their fill of food (amazingly, Eric had finished every last bite of his), and Eric coerced Kyle to follow him to the roller rink. Although Kyle allowed himself to be taken there, he hesitated at the edge of the rink, roller-skates on but absolutely no confidence in them.

Eric noticed his hesitation as he took to the rink, turning back to question his doubtful expression. "Hey, what's up?"

"I haven't skated since I was a kid," Kyle confessed, concerned. He and Stan had used to go out on the local pond whenever it froze over, but he'd never been any good, and he doubted he'd be any better then on roller-skates.

"Well you're a kid again today, so time to try." Eric held out his hand to Kyle again that day. "C'mere, I'll hold your hand if you want."

Kyle scoffed at that suggestion. "Oh, like people aren't going to laugh at a grown man needing to hold another grown man's hand!"

"They aren't," Eric insisted. "…Well, _I_ might laugh, a little," he admitted with a smile, earning a half-hearted glare from Kyle. "But nobody else will. They're all too busy having their own super fun times. So just take my hand and we'll have ours, okay?"

Kyle just gazed at Eric for a minute, wondering whether to trust him. But when Eric smiled at him like that, it totally marred his better judgement. He couldn't have done anything else except take Eric's hand and allow himself to be dragged out onto the rink.

Trying to remember how to skate was like learning to walk all over again. Every shaky sweep of his lumbering legs was a jolting, jerky movement. It didn't help that more skilled, confident people were skating circles around him, and he'd startle every time someone came close, fearing being bumped into and knocked off his already precarious balance. It was because of this that he clasped onto Eric as tight as he could, convinced that he would fall flat on his ass if he didn't.

"You're stronger than you look," Eric observed in amusement, referring to the vice-grip Kyle had on his hand.

"S-sorry," Kyle said in a rush, quickly loosening his grasp. "It's just, I've never been any good at skating. Or dancing. Or moving my body in general."

Kyle pinked as Eric laughed. "Well, funnily enough, I _have_. And I won't let you go. So loosen up."

Well, Kyle had seen Eric's quick reflexes back during laser tag. So maybe he would be able to stop him falling after all. Or maybe it was foolish to trust this man he barely knew. But something in him wanted to anyway. Because what would he do otherwise? Give up? Go home? And then what? Never know whether he might fall? Never know whether Eric might've caught him? Never know whether any risk was worth it? Never know whether he could trust anybody to let him lean on them? Live the same old, ordinary life? Stay alone? He didn't know; but he was tired of not knowing. He was a teacher, for fuck's sake. His entire existence was supposed to revolve around tests, discoveries, knowledge. If he turned away from those things, what kind of a teacher was he?

After a deep breath, Kyle sagged his tense shoulders and loosened his grasp further, until Eric's hand was merely a feather-light touch against his own. He then forced his best foot forward, more surely than before. It slid smoothly across the rink, neither shaking nor wobbling. He pushed the other one then. Same result. He noticed that he had started to smile, the corners of his mouth rising up in relief. He was doing it. For a short while, anyway. On his next attempt, one foot skewed across the slippery rink and slid into the other, essentially causing him to trip himself up. But it was okay because, as soon as he began to fall, Eric had caught him and was supporting him with his arms underneath Kyle's, allowing Kyle's weight to rest across the front of his body and letting the man cling to his biceps. God, his biceps…

"See?" Eric said. "I told you I wouldn't let go…" Kyle's heart stuttered a little as Eric's face eased into a smile, and he could feel his face warming. Being pressed against him like that, smelling his cologne and seeing his face so close up… It was a little intense. Luckily, Eric broke the spell by continuing jokingly, "Would've been hilarious to see you fall on your ass though."

"Jerk," Kyle said, but he smiled fondly. He stood there for a moment with Eric, looking into his eyes, and soon he lost his train of thought. His fingers flexed involuntarily, tugging at the fabric of Eric's sleeve without him realising it. For some reason, he started thinking about his mother's phone call from the other day.

"Come on," Eric said, hauling Kyle up back onto his feet. "Let's go again."

But Kyle's mind wasn't on skating anymore. Even as Eric helped him right himself and continued around the roller rink with him, holding his hand and murmuring reassurances as they skated, Kyle couldn't stop thinking about his mother's phone call. In fact, it was especially because of the way that Eric was treating him that he couldn't stop thinking about it, that he had been repeatedly reminded of it over the past few days, whenever Eric so much _looked_ at him in that special way of his, where his cheeks would dimple and rise with his soft smile, making his eyes, the same warm brown as the coffee he found comfort in on weekends, seem as though they, too, were smiling, and Kyle… Kyle would feel like he mattered. Even without being a teacher. Even without changing the world. Even without it being his birthday. He would just matter, simply because Eric had decided that he did.

And Eric mattered too, Kyle realised. Just because he was Eric. Because although Kyle _had_ had a super fun time that day, he realised that it had had nothing to do with being in that place, playing laser tag or riding bumper cars or roller-skating around. It had all been to do with Eric. He realised that he probably would've had a super fun time just about anywhere, even hanging around the dumpsters at the back of the building, just so long as he'd been with Eric. And more than stories before home-time, more than quiet books on weekend mornings, more than winning, more than being right, more than strawberry-flavoured anything, Kyle realised he wanted everything Eric.

Or maybe he'd always known, and he'd just been denying himself because he was so afraid. But as the day went on, Kyle started to hope that maybe, just maybe, it had been a date all along. His theory was supported by the fact that Eric insisted on walking him home after they'd left Super Phun Thyme. He wasn't even sure that Eric lived anywhere near his direction, but the taller man didn't seem prepared to part with Kyle anytime soon as he accompanied Kyle, talking to him about everything and nothing all at once. And Kyle wasn't about to complain, which was impressive because he did like to complain about a lot of things. Unnecessary things. Impractical things. Both of which described the act of Eric walking him home. So why wasn't it annoying? Why wasn't it ridiculous? Why was it making him feel warm despite the evening chill descending down on them as they made their way down the quieting, darkening streets? He didn't know, but he'd never wanted so badly for a walk to last.

"So let me get this straight: your son's called Zac because you were both nuts for _High School Musical_?" Kyle laughed.

"Hey! Don't mock my and Heidi's love of Zac Efron!" Eric scolded, but he was laughing too. "Guy's a god. We named Zac after him with the best intentions."

"Sure, but I still feel sorry for the kid that his parents are such dweebs."

"Takes one to know one, dweeb," Eric retorted, elbowing Kyle in the side as they walked. Kyle whacked him playfully in the arm, and smiled as Eric snickered. When he paid attention to their surroundings again, though, his smile faded as he realised they were just a few feet away from his apartment building. He should have been relieved to be home, introvert that he was, but his heart sank a little.

"Oh. This is me." He stopped by the entrance to the building, and turned to face Eric. "Sorry you ended up walking me all the way here." Although, he wasn't really sorry at all. He was quite relieved, truthfully.

"It's cool," Eric brushed it off. "We, like, got to hang more."

"Yeah." Kyle averted his gaze to the ground as he tucked a stray curl behind his ear. "Honestly I didn't know what to think when you asked me out yesterday. I really doubted I'd get much out of today, but… I feel like, y'know… maybe I can do this again. Maybe I can get out more." Kyle smiled up at Eric. "You helped me figure that out. I don't know if I'd ever have got the confidence to do something like this on my own, so… thanks, Eric. It's been really great."

"No need to thank me," Eric said. "It was-… I haven't got out in a while either. So, like. This was good for me, too."

"I'm glad," Kyle said. "Hopefully we'll get to do this again sometime?" He hoped he wouldn't come across too eager by saying that and scare Eric off. Luckily, Eric seemed far from frightened.

"Yeah," he agreed smiling. "That'd be nice." After a moment, his smile fell, and his face became serious. He sighed and stepped forward. There was a total change in his expression when he looked into Kyle's eyes, as though searching for a sign in them, and a total change in his tone as he spoke, sincerely and softly. "Kyle, I have a confession to make. I need to come clean with you."

Kyle's heart leapt a little and he cursed it for getting over-excited. "Yes? What is it?"

"Kyle," Eric began, before exhaling again. It seemed difficult, what he was trying to say. It made Kyle hopeful that it wouldn't be something so difficult to hear. In fact, he was pretty sure it was something he wanted to hear, had been wanting to hear for a while. His heart was racing as, eventually, Eric managed to mutter, "Kyle, I… I used to be the kid who ate the crayons."

Kyle paused for a moment, just staring at Eric, before he burst out laughing at how ridiculously unexpected that confession was. He was so surprised that he couldn't even be disappointed, although he was sure he would be later. Right then, though, he was simply struggling to speak through his laughter. "Wh-wha-a-at?"

Eric was laughing too. "I swear, Kyle! I know I made fun earlier, but I was that kid once. What can I say? The brown crayon looked like chocolate, and I found out the hard way it wasn't. I blame Crayola for their misleading produce."

"You're an idiot," Kyle decided as he calmed down, shaking his head.

Eric's teeth showed themselves in that same, irresistible grin. "Can you still accept me, Kyle? Even knowing I was _that_ kid?"

Kyle sighed, but played along as always. "Yes, Eric. Though this is very tough news to take in, I think I can still accept you."

"Good," Eric chuckled. "That's good, 'cause…" Eric's face fell again with a sigh, and he rubbed the back of his neck abashedly. "Listen, Kyle, I do actually have something important to tell you." He took a step closer, and there went Kyle's heart again. God, he didn't know how much more he could take. "I've been thinking all day about how to say this, when to say it, but I can't figure it out so I'm just gonna say it as it comes to me…" Eric took a deep breath, preparing to speak. Kyle took one too, preparing to hear. He was glad that he did, because Eric knocked all the air out of his lungs when he said, "…Kyle, I like you. I _really_ like you. A lot. And I had a lot of fun with you today. So much fun. More fun than I've had in a long time. And I don't want this to be the last time I see you like this. So if you could make more time for me between finger-painting and macaroni pictures, I promise I'd make that time super fun again. Like it was today. So…" Eric looked down, shuffled his feet awkwardly, looked up again. "…What d'you say?"

Honestly, Kyle didn't know what to say. It was much more than he'd expected, and yet everything he'd dared to hope. Eventually, though, he managed to swallow around his nerves and speak. "…I think I could do that."

Eric's lips twitched up into an unsure smile as he let out a shuddery, disbelieving sigh of relief. "Really?"

"Really," Kyle reassured, gaining confidence as he saw the ease in Eric's expression at his words. "I feel the same way. I'd really like to do this again… Only next time, let's be adults."

Eric's shoulders sagged and he threw his head back to groan, "Ugh, being an adult is no fun!"

"I don't know, I think it has its quirks…" Kyle said coyly, taking a step forward so that he and Eric were barely a breadth apart. His eyelids lowered and he gazed up at Eric from underneath his eyelashes. "Like, we can do… this…" Damning uncertainty to hell, Kyle got up on his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Eric's. It was short, but it was sweet, and it got Kyle's heart racing like mad. And, when Kyle pulled away and opened his eyes, he saw that Eric seemed to be similarly stunned, if that starry-eyed gaze and red face were anything to go by. Still, Kyle couldn't help checking for his approval, stepping away and tucking his hands behind his back before asking, "…So?"

After a beat, in which Kyle wondered whether Eric had malfunctioned, the broad brunet smiled. "…You've proven your point," he said, and Kyle giggled, giddy with success.

"Good! Then it's settled. We'll be adults. Next weekend?"

"Sounds good," Eric agreed, his whole face glowing, delirium swimming in his irises. He looked like he couldn't believe what had happened, what was happening, what was going to happen. Neither could Kyle. Then again, Kyle hadn't believed a lot of things that had come true lately.

"Cool. I'll text you the details later." Kyle turned to the door and punched in the code that would let him into his apartment building. When the buzzer sounded and the door released with a click, Kyle opened it and stepped inside. He then turned back to Eric, taking in his face and delighting in the fact that he would be seeing much more of it from then on. He didn't have to doubt it anymore, and the knowledge made his heart feel light in his chest. "I hope you have a nice night with Zac. See you soon, yeah? Bye, Eric."

"Yeah," Eric said simply, seeming in a daze. He raised his hand in a wave. "Bye, Kyle."

With a wave of his own, Kyle continued into the building. As he was heading up the stairs, though, he couldn't help looking back one last time. His curiosity paid off as Eric was still standing by the door, watching him through the glass. His face got redder as he realised that Kyle had seen him still standing there, and he waved again awkwardly. Kyle giggled and waved once more as well before fleeing up the rest of the stairs, not sure he could handle much more of the butterflies intensifying in his stomach and threatening to burst right out of his chest if he stayed and looked any longer.

After letting himself into his apartment, Kyle closed the door and then sank back against it with an elated sigh. His date was over (yes, it had definitely been a date, he was sure of that now), but he was still buzzing with excitement. He didn't know what to do with the new emotions he was feeling. Except…

Kyle went to pick up the phone and called his mother.

"Hey, Ma," he said when she answered. "I think…" He had to trail off for a moment, finding it hard to get the words past the giddy bite in his smiling lips, but finally, "…I think I've met someone…"

* * *

 **Author's Note: My dearest friend shortstackedcheesecake requested a fic with this concept for her birthday. Unfortunately, this was around the time when I fell into a writing rut, so I couldn't manage it. I try to be a woman of my word, though, especially when it concerns people I appreciate a lot and owe so much to. So here it finally is, Friend, two years and almost a week late (jeez, I suck). I'm sorry it's such a bloody mess. I'm still quite rusty, you know. But I hope it can make you even a fraction as happy as you make me every day by existing. Thank you for being born! Happy (belated) birthday, Friend! I love you loads!**  
 **Thank you! I hope you enjoyed reading this more than I enjoyed writing it!**


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